


Just Routine Malaise

by Tobyaudax



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Gen, M/M, and even though i tagged them-, these guys write themselves, they're not in a relationship in this story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-28 23:31:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8467204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tobyaudax/pseuds/Tobyaudax
Summary: Yamcha thinks it will do Radditz some good to go on an outing with him and Puar. It does and it doesn't, but at least there are roasted pumpkin seeds at the end of the day. This takes place not quite in the middle of Ch. 3 of "Not In Love".





	1. Pick Your Own!

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a nice, short story about a fun autumn activity- roasting pumpkin seeds. But it exploded into more of a character exploration. It takes place right around Chapter Three of my other Yamcha/Radditz fic, "Not In Love". Which you can read here! So if you want this to make any kind of sense, please read at least those first two chapters.
> 
> I kind of goofed, though, in that a conversation happens in "Not in Love" during winter, that should happen in autumn, before this story. This is what I get for writing a bunch in one sitting without checking my own continuity. I'd love to chop "Not in Love" up and put this story into it, but oh my god, I'm so lazy. I'm sorry.
> 
> Super special "thank yous" go out to tumblr users @your-best-bud-fenrier, @paradiseofdarkness and @davevin. Thanks, guys!

The third sign advertising "Pumpkin Patch- Pick Your Own!" disappeared behind Yamcha's car, that one letting them know it was only five kilometers away. Radditz guessed that was where they were going. He had a few questions about the whole trip, but wasn't feeling conversational that afternoon. He'd been chewed out again for messing up one of his chores and was still pissed off at both the tone of voice Yamcha had used and the faces stupid Puar had made over the human's shoulder. So instead of ask why they were going to pick their own pumpkin patches or why they would even want to, he glowered out the window and watched the desert continue its fade into farmland.

Summer had ended a few weeks earlier and that was also contributing to the Saiyan's foul mood. He loved summer- the hot days, warm nights, cool rains away from the desert where Yamcha and Puar (and now Radditz) lived. Before Yamcha had handed him his ass and made him work around the house, he would spend his days lounging outdoors; enjoying the sun, or if it got too hot, he'd find a lake or river or other body of water to cool down in. The season now was called "autumn" or just "fall". Radditz preferred fall- it was a more accurate description for his spirits.

The days were shorter, the sun not as welcoming, and rain and the nights downright cold at times. Fall sucked. And wherever they were going in Yamcha's cramped, little transport would suck, as well. He must have sighed or made some other displeased sound because Yamcha chuckled and said, "We're almost there. Maybe you'll like it- there are all kinds of things we can do with pumpkins."

"Yeah and maybe I'll hate it," was Radditz's clever reply. Yamcha and Puar sighed in unison, the sound pulling an even more sour face from the Saiyan.

Fields with a variety of crops had appeared and there were orchards of fruit trees in the distance, as well. The pumpkin patches were on a farm, apparently. In his early days on Earth, Gohan and Kakarot had shown him around and taught him about certain places that occurred all over the planet. They'd shown him cities and suburbs, factories and warehouses, mountains, forests and deserts. And they'd flown with him over several types of farmland. He didn't remember most of his nephew's narration, but he had enjoyed (and appreciated) the tour. One of the things that hadn't stuck was any mention of a pumpkin patch, though he was pretty sure he knew what a pumpkin was.

His suspicion was confirmed when Yamcha turned the transport down a dirt road, kicking up a cloud of dust. They were headed into the outskirts of the farm, to a level lot with other transports already parked. Some of them had arrived recently, as people were still unloading children, bags and, in a few cases, wagons. Radditz watched them all, noting that nearly all of them looked really happy to be there. Some of the kids were wearing glares as harsh as his own and Radditz chuckled quietly to himself- maybe they'd been having trouble with chores, too.

Yamcha parked the transport near a fence that was peppered with signs exclaiming about the pumpkin patch. Some were more insistent than others about 'picking your own'. Puar floated out the window and Yamcha climbed out and moved to the back to open the door for Radditz- he didn't trust the Saiyan to open it on his own yet, since the last time he'd gone out in the transport, he'd pulled the opposite door clean off while trying to exit. Yamcha acted like he'd done it on purpose, but he genuinely hadn't known the thing would be so sensitive. And it wasn't like he would make the same mistake again. In fact-

"I know how to open the door, now. I'm not just going to walk right out of the transport; I'm not an idiot," he growled as he shoved past the human. Unfortunately, he wasn't sure where they were headed, so he couldn't storm off. Radditz rolled his eyes when Yamcha let out another long-suffering sigh.

"I'm sorry," the human chuckled. "I know you figured it out, but you're not exactly in the best mood right now, so I figured it'd be best if I, y'know, if I just took care of the more delicate things."

"Whatever," Radditz grumbled, jamming his hands into the dangling pockets of his denim shorts.

"We really didn't have to bring him," Puar floated up and informed Yamcha with a hiss. "He's just going to be a jerk the whole time and try to ruin everything-"

"Now that you mention it, I haven't ruined anything since this morning, so I guess I'm overdue!" Radditz didn't care that he'd practically shouted and he certainly didn't care that a few people were looking in their direction, now.

"Ugh, see?" Puar folded his arms, managing to be both smug and disapproving at the same time.

"Guys, cool it," Yamcha put a hand on each of them, undeterred as Radditz shrugged it off with a low snarl. "Puar, he's not going to do anything, he won't ruin this. Radditz, try to loosen up a little- this'll be fun! And we can use an extra set of arms for some heavy lifting."

"Oh so I'm just here for grunt work? I live to serve you, my master." Radditz's voice was as dry as he could make it as he performed an elaborate bow. He peeked up through his hair to see the violent blush spread across the human's face.

"Shit, no- not here, okay? You have to stop saying that- things like that, but _especially_ not in public, around _people_! Please, just one day can you call me 'Yamcha'?"

He straightened and considered the request- not seriously considered, but pretended he was- before sighing, shrugging and shaking his head. "If that's what my master desires-"

"I'm so serious right now, Radditz," Yamcha got out between tightly grit teeth. He rarely addressed the Saiyan by name, usually reserving it for when Radditz had done something wrong or finally managed to piss the human off. Radditz fought down a grin at the small victory.

"Okay, whatever," the Saiyan sighed, turning away to look at his surroundings. It was a decently-sized farm, probably taking up at least a hundred hectares. There were a few buildings, the largest of which was lousy with people- most entering or exiting, but a few just standing around and talking outside.

"We're here for some supplies- the basics, like produce, and there's a really great farmer's cheese- but we're also going to get as many pumpkins as we can fit in the Jeep. Do… do you know what pumpkins look like?" Yamcha had been addressing him, but Radditz was only partially paying attention; his focus had shifted to a shapely little brunette loading paper bags into her convertible.

"Yeah, sure," he waved a hand absently as his eyes traced the curvaceous lines of the woman's legs. "Supplies and pumpkins, got it."

"She's so far out of your league it's depressing," Puar snickered at his shoulder and Radditz swatted at him, annoyed.

"Who's- oh, geez," Yamcha followed Puar and Radditz's eyes, ducking his head and spinning away when the woman looked over at them. "Let's get going, okay? We'll have a lot of, uh, prep work once we get everything back."

Radditz wiggled his fingers in greeting at the woman, who gave him a once-over and then laughed as she got into her car. He could still hear her laughter as she backed up and then drove away. _What a bitch_.

"Oh my god I called it! Wish I'd put money on that one!" Puar chortled, holding his stomach as he rolled around in mid-air. Radditz wanted to pop his stupid head off, but knew Yamcha would stop him before he even got a hand on the little shit.

Yamcha turned around once Puar started laughing, visibly relieved. "C'mon guys, we're burning daylight here. Let's get started. Puar, you can get the fruits, veggies and cheese. Radditz, come with me and we'll pick out a few pumpkins."

Puar took the scrap of paper Yamcha had held out to him and floated towards the big building, still snickering. Radditz snarled after him, half-heartedly shaking a fist. Yamcha put a hand on his upper arm and started walking, leading the way to the pumpkins. Which reminded Radditz; he'd been meaning to ask a few questions and now that Puar was out of earshot (and wouldn't have any shitty comments), he figured it was a good time to get some answers.

"So… you want to get pumpkins or pumpkin patches? The signs all said "pumpkin patch" and said you could "pick your own"- don't you fucking laugh at me, human!"

"I'm sorry- I'm sorry," Yamcha coughed into his fist and shook his head, short hair bouncing. "Sometimes I actually forget you're an alien and that- well, that was a… a cute question."

"Nothing I say or do is cute and you will never say anything like that again."

"Okay, whatever," Yamcha chuckled, throwing Radditz's most commonly used words back at him. "The patch is where the pumpkins are grown. We're just getting a few pumpkins- there are all kinds of things I can make with the flesh and the seeds are great when roasted."

"I thought… Pumpkins are a… plant, a vegetable, right?" Radditz squinted out into the field they were approaching. "They're not… some kind of animal? With flesh?"

Yamcha didn't laugh at him that time, but he did smile. "Yeah, they're gourds, basically vegetables. They're alive, but not like animals and people… and Saiyans are alive."

He asked a few more questions as they walked, things he'd noticed on the drive and even a few things he'd been thinking about the past few weeks. Yamcha answered every one, sometimes with a smile, but never with laughter. It was probably the best time he'd spent with the human, so far. Yamcha showed him which pumpkins were the best, how to tell if they were ripe and the best way to remove them from the vine. They loaded their arms up with as much as they could carry- Radditz stopped counting after the tenth one- and made their way back to the Jeep.

"-was just laying there, in the rubble. We thought he was dead." Yamcha was telling him about when Vegeta had first been "stranded" on Earth, after Namek had blown up. Apparently there had been a hilariously nearly-fatal mishap with a gravity training machine.

"I admit, at the time, I was kinda glad. I mean, I didn't wish him dead or anything, but I wouldn't have minded, back then, if he'd just gone away…" He grew quiet as they packed the gourds into the trunk and tucked a few into the back seat. Radditz was insanely curious to hear more early Vegeta stories, but the one Yamcha had just (presumably) finished seemed to weigh on the human. That only made Radditz's curiosity multiply.

Unfortunately, Puar chose the next moment to appear, pushing a shopping cart laden with brown paper bags. Radditz made a note to talk to Yamcha later- he likely had all kinds of embarrassing stories about the asshole prince. They all unloaded the bags, Puar and Yamcha chatting about what they'd make for dinner and how much the cost of things had risen or fallen. Radditz peeked into a few bags and bit back a delighted laugh when he saw three stalks of Brussels sprouts- even though they smelled like farts, they had quickly become one of his favourite, non-meat foods.

"Just one more stop and then we'll get back and have dinner started," Yamcha informed the occupants. They pulled out of the lot and started to leave the farm, but didn’t turn back the way they'd come. He drove on another kilometer or so and then stopped at a wooden stand on the side of the road.

"Cider!" Puar cheered, not waiting for the transport to stop moving before he floated out the window and up to the old man sitting behind a makeshift counter.

Yamcha parked and followed the cat, digging out his wallet and talking with the old man. Radditz stayed in the Jeep, not wanting to have to re-situate himself around the groceries. Puar flew back into the front seat, a steaming paper cup held gingerly in his paws. A sweet and spicy scent wafted into the back and Radditz inhaled in spite of himself- he had to have some! He was setting a pumpkin aside to reach over the seat and take Puar's drink when a hand came through his window, holding another, larger paper cup.

Radditz blinked and took the cup, shifting it from one hand to the other, surprised at the temperature. It wasn't hot enough to hurt him, but he hadn't expected something from outside on such a cool day to be so warm! Yamcha got back inside, blowing gently on his own cup. Puar hissed and laughed, burning his whiskers on the hot drink. Radditz frowned down at the beverage he held, sniffing it warily. Everyone in the transport had the same thing, but he wanted to be certain Puar hadn't done anything to his.

He imitated Yamcha, blowing over the rim of the cup before taking a cautious sip. It was sweeter than he thought it would be, but also tart and filled with a number of spices. He took a bigger drink, holding it in his mouth, swishing it around before swallowing.

"What is this?" He asked before he thought better of it; who knew what Puar would have to say.

"Apple cider," Yamcha answered in between sips. "It's juice from apples, warmed- or mulled- with all kinds of spices. Best thing to have on a cold, fall day. Though, sometimes, we like to add a little extra flavour." Radditz could just barely see the two exchange a knowing look, then laugh. He'd asked enough questions for one day- for a whole week, at least!- so he didn't look for elaboration.

He drank all of his cider long before they got back to Yamcha's cabin, even licking the inside of the cup to get as much of the beverage as possible. The drink put him in such a good mood that he even helped unload the groceries and pumpkins. Yamcha had them leave the gourds on the front porch, as the work they'd have to do to get at the seeds and flesh would make a pretty big mess.

Radditz's contribution to the dinner preparation was staying out of the way. He spread out on the couch and explored the few channels Yamcha's television received. He was looking for that one show the human and cat always watched, but couldn't find it. He wasn't about to ask them how they knew when it would be on, though. …He wasn't going to admit that he was starting to like watching it. The warmth from the kitchen and the fire opposite must have made him doze off- the next thing he knew, Yamcha was standing over him, letting him know it was time to eat. The best part of any day!

He inhaled his usual amount, pausing just long enough to register a few new flavours. Yamcha and Puar kept up an inconsistent banter, but Radditz didn't pay attention to what they were talking about. His focus was all for the food. He would never let the human know it, but Yamcha was a pretty good cook. Nowhere near ChiChi's level, but he managed to make just about everything he prepared more than edible. And he couldn't hide his excitement when he caught scent and sight of the big bowl of 'sprouts. There were no leftovers for any meal Radditz massacred, but that one in particular was given a good burial.


	2. How to Jerk a Tear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yamcha is a pretty good instructor and Radditz is still an asshole. Puar drops some knowledge in the form of a warning. Martial arts movies are enjoyed all around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The entire story's title comes from a line in a great Grizzly Bear song- "Two Weeks". Please go listen to it, it's just the best.

Complaining of sore ribs- which was a total lie, as they were mostly healed- Radditz retired outside to examine the pumpkins and try to figure out, on his own, what Yamcha was going to do with them. Once he tired of the pumpkins, he set about getting a small fire going in the yard. Yamcha had a few places marked by old burn circles for bonfires. The night air had gotten downright cold and Radditz hadn't bothered to either inquire after or get his own warmer clothing. Sleeveless t-shirts and cutoff shorts were not fall-friendly. By the time a good-sized fire was crackling a safe distance from the porch, Yamcha emerged from the house.

The human had his arms full with a few large bowls, some knives and spoons. For a moment, a second, at most, Radditz considered getting up and offering assistance. He quashed the unfamiliar thought as soon as it formed, crossing his arms to further keep to himself. Yamcha un-stacked the bowls and set out the cutlery on a towel he'd thrown over his shoulder.

"The first thing we have to do is get some of these hollowed out. We put the flesh in this bowl and the guts and seeds in this one." Yamcha indicated each container as he spoke. "The hollow ones we get to carve- er, if you want to, I mean. Puar and I like to make jack-o-lanterns for Halloween. That's, uh, that's when you cut a face or any kind of pattern into the hollowed out pumpkin, then put a candle inside to light it up."

Radditz shuffled back to the porch and took a seat a few pumpkins away from the human. He glanced around for Puar before asking, "What's 'Halloween'?"

"Oh! Uh, it's a holiday. Not everyone celebrates it but it's like… kind of a harvest festival, kind of a thing where people can dress up in costumes and go to parties. Or kids will go to people's houses and get candy and treats- we call it Trick or Treating." He paused to laugh, scratching at the bridge of his nose, then moving his hand to rub at the scar on his cheek.

"It doesn't happen too often, but uh, if some kids don't get treats or don't get the kind they like, they'll play a trick on people- things like throwing toilet paper around or eggs at their houses. It's mostly older kids who shouldn't be Trick or Treating anymore that do those kinds of things."

"Your planet is fucked up," Radditz observed, deadpan. "But I like it. How old's too old for Trick or Treat?"

"Uh, we're both _way too old_ ," Yamcha laughed. "But if you want to, I bet Goten still goes out. And in a few years, Pan'll be old enough and I'm sure Gohan and Videl wouldn't mind you taking her."

"Yeah. Maybe."

Radditz watched Yamcha carve out the first pumpkin, keeping an eye on how he used the knife and then the spoon to scoop the "guts" out. It smelled kind of gross, but not remotely as bad as disemboweling someone. They worked in a surprisingly companionable silence, even getting into a rhythm and forming an impromptu assembly line- Yamcha cut the tops free, carved out some of the flesh, and then handed the gourd over to Radditz to scoop the seeds and goop out. They were done before the fire had burned down to its first embers.

They gathered up the bowls and tools and went back inside. Puar and Yamcha had cleared the table and cleaned all the dishes, so there was plenty of space to work. Radditz remembered Yamcha had mentioned eating pumpkin seeds earlier and picked up a gooey handful to sample. He had it in his mouth and started chewing by the time Yamcha noticed.

"Oh, ew, no," the human laughed. Radditz blanched and spit the mess into the sink. "We have to clean and toast them before you can eat them!"

"Well how the fuck was I supposed to know that!?"

"Sorry, okay? That's on me, I guess- I didn't elaborate."

Radditz glared at him as the human demonstrated how to clean the seeds and separate them from the pulp. It was kind of tedious, but he really didn't have anything else to do; the sun had only recently set, so he wasn't tired, nor had he really exerted himself earlier. Once the seeds were cleaned and soaking in some salted water, Yamcha let him know they'd have to sit like that for three or four hours. Radditz had no idea what or how long that was, but he didn't want to let on about yet another bit of Earth culture he wasn't privy to, so he just nodded and sat down at the kitchen table to wait.

"That's uh… it's going to be a while," Yamcha stuttered and rubbed the back of his neck. "You uh, you probably don't want to hang out in here the whole time. How 'bout we see what's on TV or watch a movie?"

Radditz studied the bowls full of salty water and pumpkin seeds, then the human standing nervously at the sink. It was nice to see that, for whatever reason, he could still make Yamcha nervous.

"Sure, why not." He pushed away from the table and sauntered into the other room, dropping onto the couch and turning the television back on. He was secretly pleased that he'd figured out the device so quickly and took any opportunity he could to demonstrate the skill.

Yamcha made his way across the room and sat on the hearth, pulling a box out from under the television stand and looking for something inside it.

"I have some martial arts movies, a couple old cartoons and uh, oh…" Yamcha trailed off, his face going a little slack as he stared into the box.

"Oh, cartoons sound good," Puar put in from the far side of the couch. To his credit, Radditz didn't jump. The damn cat was too good at sneaking around.

Yamcha didn't even nod at the suggestion. He just blinked slowly, once, and licked his lips. Damn, what was in that box? Radditz freed himself from the sofa and crouched in front of the human, leaning over to see what had so captivated his attention. There were a lot of thin rectangles inside and the writing on many of them was too stylized for him to read, but he traced Yamcha's gaze to one box in particular and quickly reached in to pluck it loose.

"Hey-!" The human's protest was cut off as Radditz stood and held the box high over his head, squinting up to read it.

" _'Winter's Rose_ '," Radditz narrated slowly. "'A romantic masterwork. Tear-jerker to end all tear-jerkers.' The fuck's a 'tear-jerker'- hey!"

Puar had appeared silently, yet again, to swipe the box out of his hand and drop it back where it had come from. The cat glared at him and shook his head, but didn't offer any explanation for his rude behavior. Yamcha was still on the hearth, though now he was looking out the side window, into the dark back yard.

"Well shit, let's watch that," Radditz laughed. "I want to see a romantic masterwork and learn how to jerk a tear."

"We'll watch _Fight Dancer_ ," Puar said quietly, removing another box and sliding a smaller rectangle out of it. He placed it into one of the boxes under the television before Radditz could protest.

"I wanna watch the other one-"

"It's Bulma's favourite movie," Yamcha said tonelessly. "I mean, it _was_. When we were dating. I liked it too- it reminded me of us. Shit. _Shit!_ "

Yamcha dropped the large box on the floor and stalked out of the room, then outside. Radditz stared at the door, dumbfounded. _What the hell had just happened?_

"Real smooth, asshole," Puar hissed. Radditz pulled a face at him then shrugged, still baffled.

"What did I do? I didn't do _anything_ \- he was just staring, just sitting there!"

"You don't deserve to know this, but I'm going to tell you so that you don't screw up and accidentally hurt him again-"

"I didn't lay a finger on him- you saw me-!"

"There are other ways to hurt people, idiot. So shut up and listen: even though it's been years, more than a decade, sometimes Yamcha still misses Bulma. Sometimes, he remembers how he used to feel about her. He loved her and she broke his heart, ran off with Vegeta and left him alone to pick up the pieces. …It's an expression, moron, and I'm not done."

"Just because she's moved on and they're friends now, doesn't mean he doesn't have bad days. It doesn't mean that he stopped loving her completely. He knows they're never getting back together and he's genuinely happy for her and Vegeta. But some things bring the past back. Some things can still hurt, even after all this time."

Radditz stayed quiet while the cat talked. At first, nothing he was being told made any sense- how could Yamcha be happy for the woman that left him, but still get all fucked up inside just thinking about her? He didn't understand and he wanted to make the cat clarify for him, but he was also tired of being insulted by the little shape-shifter. Besides, the knowledge he'd just been given could be useful later on- if he ever needed Yamcha to leave him alone, he just had to find some way to bring up Bulma and Vegeta. Hell, even just mentioning Bulma could likely do the trick!

"Don't even think about it," Puar growled, somehow coming across as actually threatening despite the high pitch of his voice. "I know that look, Saiyan, I know when you're trying to scheme something and I'm warning you- _don't_ screw around with _this_. You want to talk back and insult him, hell, you want to start a fight- go right ahead. But you leave this-" he pointed at the tape in the box- "out of it."

Puar had floated closer to Radditz as he spoke, so the Saiyan didn't notice right away that he was changing his shape, as well. He'd never seen it done before, so was shocked when all of a sudden, a huge, snarling monster was in his face. It was all teeth, claws and spittle and it sounded like something straight from hell when it spoke, "You don't mess with his heart, or so help me, I'll kill you all over again."

Radditz nodded dumbly, once. The creature disappeared in a puff of smoke and Puar floated a few centimeters from his face. The cat nodded, as well, and turned to settle on the arm of the couch to watch the movie that was starting.

"Yam-cha! Make us some popcorn, please!" Puar shouted in a sing-song voice in the direction of the front door.

"Yeah, sure," came the muted reply from the porch. Yamcha followed a couple minutes later, slouching into the kitchen and preparing the requested snack. Radditz slumped back down on the couch, as far from the side Puar was on as possible. Most of him knew the cat was all bluff, that he couldn't possibly be a match for a Saiyan, even one as low on the power ladder as him. But another part, the part that half-remembered scary stories told to him by Nappa and Vegeta when he was younger, wasn't so sure Puar couldn't back up his image with actions. He would have to be more careful around that one, at least until he knew how the shape-shifting worked.

He didn't even watch the movie, his attention divided between Puar and Yamcha. The human seemed fine when he returned with a huge bowl of popcorn. Radditz took handfuls absently, trying to puzzle out what Puar had told him, to match up that information with the man chuckling beside him. According to Yamcha once it was over, the movie was only one and half hours long, so they still had time to kill before the seeds were ready to roast. Puar suggested another movie and he and Yamcha argued over which one.

They ended up playing rock-paper-scissors to decide and Yamcha won- likely because he actually had fingers with which to play the game. He chose a longer movie, one about a solitary fighter seeking revenge for the murder of his master. Despite himself, Radditz was sucked in. He'd never paid attention to much on the television before, though the "sitcom" Yamcha and Puar often watched was becoming more and more interesting. Movies were different from TV shows, though, he learned and Yamcha pointed out.

"The production values are higher- they have a bigger budget, more money to spend to make it look so good. And the people in movies have more training as actors than those on TV," the human explained during lulls in the action and between handfuls of popcorn.

When the film finally ended, when the martial artist defeated the last man to slight his teacher's name, Radditz was transfixed. How could he have known there were such compelling stories on Earth! His eyes trailed the words on the otherwise blank screen, but he was still seeing the movie, the fight scenes, in his mind.

"That was… amazing!" He shouted, not caring if Puar would add something dickish. "Are all movies like that? Are there _more_ like that? Where did he learn to fight like that!"

"There are _so many_ kinds of movies," Yamcha chuckled. "And they're not all like that one- it's hard to top. I have a few others with the same actor-"

"'Cause you have a big ol' crush on him," Puar chuckled and made kissing faces. Yamcha tried to laugh it off, but his cheeks were pink as he ducked his head to peer into the box of movies.

"And he was professionally trained by someone, a specialized martial arts school," he continued once he'd regained some composure from the cat's teasing. "He's really good, but the things I learned from the old Turtle Hermit make a lot of that pale by comparison."

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask about Yamcha's training, but Radditz didn't want to seem too interested or even eager. He realized during the silence as Yamcha tried to decide whether or not they'd watch another movie that he had, in a round-about way, admitted that humans were good fighters. And he wasn't sure how he felt about that. It was good that there was another planet of skilled warriors, but were they better than Saiyans? Stronger- no way, but more skilled? …It was looking like that might be a possibility.

Puar put on a tape of cartoons and Yamcha announced that the seeds were finally ready to be roasted. Radditz followed him into the kitchen, relieved to have something else to think about for a while. The process was relatively simple- the oven was turned on and once they removed the seeds from the water, they were spread onto several flat, metal trays. Yamcha applied more salt and some other seasonings Radditz didn't get a chance to read- or sniff- before they disappeared back in the cupboard.

Yamcha talked about the movie while they waited, getting up and turning the trays or shuffling the seeds around once in a while. He talked about his own training in martial arts, too. It turned out that the place where Radditz had first met Kakarot was where the Turtle Hermit lived and trained his few students. It was more than a little tempting to see if he could get a demonstration of that training- Yamcha hadn't been present for Radditz's first visit to Earth and the Saiyan found that a little disappointing. Granted, he would have thought just as little of Yamcha as he did the other humans that were there. But maybe he would have put up a better fight than those others- he'd certainly looked enough like a Saiyan, judging by old photos and even now.

It was long past sundown when the last of the seeds were removed from the oven and set aside to cool. The first batch was finally of a temperature that could be ingested and Radditz eagerly scooped up a handful and shoved it into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully for a few seconds, and then swallowed loudly. He licked his lips, then sucked the seasoning off of each finger.

"Alright," he ceded with a sigh, following the consumption of an entire tray of seeds. "That was worth the wait. And the work."

"I make the best pumpkin seeds around," Yamcha chuckled, puffing out his chest a little and running a finger under his nose.

"…Other people make these things? Do you think ChiChi does?" Radditz stood in his excitement- if Kakarot's wife made pumpkin seeds, there would be no limit to the things he would do for her in order to get them.

Yamcha faltered a little, his chuckle forced. "Sure they do- I didn’t invent this or anything. And, uh, I guess you could ask her. To make some."

Radditz eyed the trays lining the counter and the few on the kitchen table. It wouldn't take him long to eat them all. He leaned back in his chair and squinted outside, counting the pumpkins he could see by the dying light of the fire in the yard. "You'll have to make more in the morning. I'm going to bed."

He left the kitchen, paused in the next room, then walked backwards to pluck a tray of seeds from the table. Those ones he took his time with, savoring the salt and spices. All things considered, it hadn't been a bad day- he'd gotten a few new types of food and even had his interest in training rekindled! He was going to have to get Yamcha away from Puar and convince- or threaten, somehow- the human to show him some moves. Kakarot had trained with the same old man and look how well his little brother had turned out!

He fell asleep with half-chewed seeds in his mouth and considering what it would take to get Yamcha to make him some of that apple cider, as well. And he dreamed that he was the man from the martial arts movie; that Yamcha was the teacher who had been killed and whose death he fought against Vegeta, various soldiers from his past and Freeza, himself, to avenge.


End file.
